


a name's worth

by Mayari (Paradise_of_Mary_Jane)



Series: Whumptober 2019 [7]
Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: Does this count as character death?, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-01 13:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20815823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradise_of_Mary_Jane/pseuds/Mayari
Summary: Eurydice starts to forget. Persephone won't let her.Win some, lose some, sister. Men are fickle. Don’t lose yourself because of them.





	a name's worth

**Author's Note:**

> Day 7: Isolation
> 
> This is only whump in the loosest sense of the word, but I also knew I needed to write this fic the first time I finished the cast recording, so here we are.

Hadestown is a ghostown. No one actually lives there. Outside the mines, outside the factories, there wasn’t much people. Why would there be? Everyone’s working. If you’re not working then…

There’s no such thing as not working. There’s always something to do. Another job to be done, another quota to fill. No one is ever hungry or thirsty or cold but that doesn’t matter. There’s no conversation, either. No love. No life.

No one’s actually alive in Hadestown. Not dead. They didn’t die in the real sense of the word. Exhaustion just has a way of eating up what’s left of their life.

Or they were already dead to begin with. Not much difference, really, between working and dying.

She catches glimpses of the gods sometimes, when she can force herself to look up. It doesn’t happen much these days, and it happens less and less the longer she stays. She knows that, at some point, she won’t be able to do it at all.

Bright, ethereal beings, the gods are. Hades, with his cloak of darkness, large and looming like a spectre. He watches her sometimes, too, with what looks like regret. Or the closest thing to regret Hades can feel. He’s a god after all. They don’t do that kind of thing.

Hermes flits back and forth. He carries messages from Orpheus. He tells her they’re songs and poems. He tells her he’s grief-stricken, that she’ll see him again soon enough.

She takes each one of them but doesn’t send her own. She tucks the letters in her pocket and doesn’t open them. Hadestown doesn’t give her the time for something as trivial love.

Persephone is the worst, though. She shines brighter than anything in town, like a star that fell down from the sky. They don’t see stars down in Hades. She’s so bright she’s almost blinding. Every autumn is the same: she steps off the train and makes a beeline for her. The goddess must think it’s a comfort. It’s not, but she thinks she can appreciate the gesture.

“Your lover’s coming your way,” the goddess said the first autumn. “Everyone ends up in Hades in the end. You’ll be together soon enough.”

“Don’t know why it’ll matter, ma’am,” she had replied. “I’ll still be here in Hadestown and he’ll be out in the fields.” Asphodel perhaps, if Hades was feeling incredibly spiteful. But someone like Orpheus, the son of a god and a muse, not a drop of mortality flowing down his veins, can only ever end up in Elysium.

“My husband agreed,” Persephone said. “Your contract ends when your lover boards the train. The two of you’ve suffered enough because of our fighting.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said. Maybe it was Hades’ deal, and maybe it wasn’t fair, but it was Orpheus who looked back. It was Orpheus who faltered. Orpheus who always faltered.

_Do you trust each other? Do you trust yourselves._

_We do._

Memories are strange things in Hadestown. She remembers Orpheus’ voice clearly but she doesn't remember much else.

_Lover all the promises you made to me, why can’t you keep a single one?_

Persephone gave her an odd look then, something almost like understanding, but she couldn’t meet the goddesses’ eyes for long. 

“Sister, you still remember your name?”

“Don’t know why it matters,” she said with a shrug. “A name won’t make the work go faster.”

“Eurydice,” Persephone says. “Your name is Eurydice. Don’t let anyone take it from you, especially not unfaithful men.”

“He was never unfaithful.”

“Wasn’t he?” Persephone sighs. “Win some, lose some, sister. Men are fickle. Don’t lose yourself because of them.”

Persephone left soon after, to her palace and her husband. With each step, she the wind changes and winter draws closer.

Eurydice was alone. 

Perhaps the worst curse of Hadestown was that it wasn’t her fault this time.


End file.
